The King and the Beggar

A parable from India's great poet of the spirit.

Reprinted with permission of Harmony Books, a division of Random House.

As I went begging today from door to door they cried, "He is coming! He draws near!" And seeing the dust of your gorgeous chariot, I thought, "Who can this be but a king among kings?"

My hopes soared, and I stood waiting for alms to be given and wealth scattered in the dust. Your chariot stopped right before me, you looked down with a smile, and I knew that the luck of my days had come. Until suddenly you held out your palm and said, "What will you give?"

Begging from a beggar! What a kingly jest--I was confused and dismayed, but I groped in my sack until I brought out one grain of wheat, the tiniest thing I could afford.

I got home that night and emptied my sack on the floor, only to spy a grain of gold gleaming there in the heap. Then how bitterly I wept. If you did this for a tiny grain of wheat, what would you return if I had given you everything?